You Push Me Forward
by RuexMytholover
Summary: Amy and Glen try to move on with their lives but their parents past catches up with them. Now they have to aline with their fathers greatest advisory so they can fully move forward in their lives.
1. Chapter 1

_Everything was fuzzy. I could only see black with white specks. I couldn't feel any part of my body. I could only hear a slight ringing. I try to get a grip and focus on my surroundings. Finally I had the ability to actually blink. I blinked once. Twice. Slowly I began to regain feeling in my muscles and my vision began to clear. I could see a large ceiling above me and I realized that I was lying on my back. I sat up and glanced around. I was in some sort of factory and I was surrounded by boxes on all sides. I squinted and my blood ran cold as I saw the cold pale blue eyes that could be seen behind the clear plastic. I panic. I scrabbled away, but the packages that encircled me were walls on all sides. I was trapped. When I realized this I ran. I ran as fast as I could trying to escape the rows upon rows of identical dolls. But I was traveling through a deep maze. The walls of horror never ending. I continue to run searching fruitlessly for an end. I turn a corner and stop when I see a door. The door is large and metal. It reminds me of a prison door. There are bars on the door but I am not tall enough to reach it and see inside. So I apprehensively approach the entrance and yank the heavy door open. Inside I see a child, I can hear him crying. The boy sobs with his knees pulled up to his chest. His brown hair fell over his face since he had his head held down. I creep over towards his side. I kneel down beside him and place my hand gently on his shoulder. At the contact he flinches and his head snaps up. Wide hazel eyes stare at me fearfully. His breathing is heavy and he is tense and frightened. I try to calm him and place my hand on his shoulder once again._

"_Whats wrong?" I ask softly. I give him a kind smile that is usually reserved for my brother. But this child's incredibly terrified and captivating eyes strike a cord in me. _

"_He's going to kill me," The boy whimpered. "Please. Please don't leave me." He started sobbing again. _

"_Im not going to leave you." I reassured him. "Whats your name?" I try to distract the child from his fear. _

"_Andy." He answers and his eyes darken as his bangs cast a shadow over his face. "Andy Barclay." My eyes widen. Impossible. _

_The sound of foot steps echoes in my ears. I whip around, my hair flying in front of my face. I thrust my hand forward as an act of self defense but as soon as my vision isn't blocked I wish I hadn't. My mother stands before me. She is human and she has a knife lodged in her stomach. The hilt of the knife is in my hands. _

_My mothers green eyes are blank and void of emotion. "My mother always said love would set me free." The whisper is terribly quiet and I can barley make it out. She falls to the cold ground before me. Tears start to shine in my eyes but they do not spill out._

_My glassy eyes wonder around me and I am now standing in a dark room of pitch black. There are spotlights that shine down on me and the other things in the room. All the other things in the room are corpses. My hand flies over my mouth so that I suppress a scream. The gruesome deaths of these people. A woman who was crushed and mangled. A man with a broken neck. A man with a razor blade sticking out of his neck. There were many more, all of them were horrific and disturbing. There was the sound of foot steps. I turned to see Andy walking towards me slowly._

"_Chucky's here." His voice echoed. "And he's going to kill us."_

_Then I heard it. The sound of his high pitched bone chilling laughter. The ginger doll came up behind Andy. I screamed at him to run, but instead he picked up the doll and held it to him with a stoic face. _

_The doll had a large butcher knife in hand and its reflective surface caught in the light would gleam. The blade was pressed against Andy's throat. The boys expression remained the same as it began to slit across his neck. Blood blossomed out of the wound, it gushed and made a sickening gurgling sound. The blade left Andy's throat but he remained standing and emotionless. He smiles at me. Blood pushed out of his mouth as he spoke. _

"_Hey I'm Andy. Whats your name?"_

_The doll turned its head to me and blinked. "Hey Im Chucky. Wanna play?" _

_I stare at the horrific scene in front of me and I finally let out an ear piercing scream._

I bolted up from the bed and continued to scream my lungs out. Glen grabbed my arm in panic trying to calm me down. I immediately went quiet when I felt him touch me. I was heaving as I looked at Glen who's eyes were wide with worry. The morning light bathed his tiny form and he frowned at me.

"It was about him, wasn't it." He stated. He knew I had nightmares about it. We both did. But I needed to be strong for Glen. The kid was only five. I couldn't let him know that Chucky effected me so severely. Even though I would freeze when I saw a doll. Even though I would cringe when ever I saw the scar on my leg. Glen couldn't know. I needed to be strong for him. But I would never lie to him, so I don't answer his question. All I do is ruffle his hair and smile gently.

"Sorry I woke you kid." I look over at the clock. 7:00 am "But I guess it was well timed." I got out of the bed and lifted him up in my arms. "Lets get you ready for school."

I give him a huge grin. But on the inside I remain terrified. I still see the image of a child smiling at me with his throat slit and holding a ginger doll with a knife.

**Whoop. New story! I love writing dream sequences. Anything goes. Please review. :D**


	2. Chapter 2

_He grips the steering wheel in front of him. The car does not move from its place in the parking lot. He is suppose to get out of the car and go to his destination, but he remains seated. He made the decision to come here. He drove 33 miles to be here. He wanted to go to this. He needed to pay his respects to the one woman who could fool him, who could escape his justice. He needed to tie all the loose ends. _

_Mike Norris took a deep breath. He opened the door and stepped on to the gravel. He looked forward. The graveyard was deserted. He didn't think anyone would come to the grave. The woman's parents were dead and her sister wanted nothing to do with her. He was sure that someone other than him would show up though. There would always be someone to mourn when one left this earth. _

_He had heard that the woman was electrocuted in her bathtub. It was ironic that one of Chicago's best cops couldn't find a ditzy girl like her until her death. He had been looking for her for 10 years after he had shot Charles Lee Ray. She was the only person he had never been able to find. He hunted but his searching came out fruitless. He had been able to catch the notorious Lakeshore Straggler, but not his obsessive clingy girlfriend. He had to hand it to her she was pretty good at avoiding him. She had dodged plenty of bullets over the years. He had narrowed down her location 3 times but each time she had narrowly escaped his grasp. She was very good at covering her tracks. He had only found out yesterday that she was found dead. In Lockport of all places. He laughed bitterly. Death got her before he did. First time for everything. _

_He made his way into the empty graveyard. It was a very gloomy day, with clouds hanging over his head matching perfectly with the scenery around him. The light breeze brushed his trench coat to the side as he walked by tome stone after tome stone. Her grave wasn't far from here, he was certain. He was coming close to he stone that was marked with her name. But his steps halted when he saw a figure kneeling in front of the stone. A young girl knelt in the grass in front of the grave, her head held down looking at her lap. Mike furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Who could she be? He continued to approach the tome stone. At the sound of his soft footsteps her head snapped up and she turned. Mike froze when her eyes met his. Bright blue. Identical to _his _eyes. Her eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth hung open. But she regained her composer quickly and her face became stoic. She continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression. Mike returned her look with a suspicious gaze. Was she her child? Was she _his_ child? He wasn't aware that the girl was pregnant at the time of Rays death. But he had died 10 years ago. The girl seemed to be the right age. It was very possible. The girl continued to stare at him for awhile before turning back to the grave. She put an item down before the stone. After placing the object down she stood up abruptly. She walked away from the grave not sparing him a second glance as she left. Mike watched her retreating form. He returned his attention to the grave after she was out of sight. He walked up to the stone. The name Tiffany Valentine were carved into the polished rock. On the ground before the tome stone there lay a single white rose. But a piece of paper was taped to the stone with the words 'beloved mother' scrawled across it. _

:"Kitten":

Mike sighed as he leaned back in his chair rubbing his temples in frustration. Andy's face was red with anger. He was standing in front of the mans desk with his fists clenched at his sides. His mother Karen Barclay tried to get the boy to calm down but the detectives last words drove him over the edge.

"I refuse to reopen the case under those terms." Andy growled. His anger shinning in his hazel eyes.

"Andy, the girl has physical evidence, she is physical evidence. She even managed to get a bit of the Chucky's blood. If it matches Charles Lee Rays than that will be the closest we've ever gotten. She's a witness and she is invaluable." Mike tried to reason with the young man.

"I don't care if she's invaluable." Andy raved "She is his kid. She's probably a killer too. She is dangerous."

"She is the only shot you have. Andy, no police force will hire you with your record. You need to be cleared if you want to be an officer." Mike argued.

"I'll find another way. I'm not relying on her to help me with my career." Andy huffed as he slumped back down in his chair.

Mike sighed in irritation. Reasoning with the stubborn boy was like reasoning with a wall. Andy was a firm willed man, when he decided something you couldn't talk him out of it. Mike knew that. 4 years ago when the young man turned 18 he came to Mike, begging him to help him find his mother. Mike knew he owed the boy for abandoning him when his was job was threatened if he didn't deny the Chucky story, so he agreed to help the boy. Andy was persistent in finding her he spent days and nights finding out her information. After a while they narrowed down her location. And finally after 12 years of being separated, Andy and his mother reunited. But it was still hard for Andy. Not many people would hire him with his background. Most considered the boy insane.

"You need to think of your future Andy." Karen held her sons hand. "I know you don't want to work with this girl, but think about it. She was attacked by Chucky too. The wound on her leg proves that."

Andy looked at his mother with a soft expression. "Fine." He relented. "But I don't want to be around her anymore than I have too."

"Fine with me." Mike responded. "But we are going to have to get the girl from L.A."

Andy looked at him and smiled. "If we are going to have to fly all the way too L.A. just to pick up this girl, your paying for the tickets."

**Yay Andy's first scene. I hope I made him in character. But its hard to tell what kind of person he is since we only see him as a mature teen once and for the rest of it he's a child. Please review. **


	3. Chapter 3

October 29, 2004:

I continuously tapped the ball point of my pen on my paper as I stared at the clock mentally willing it to go faster. All my teacher was doing was giving us another long lecture about something no one cared about. Right now I'm pretty sure he was talking about socks, either that or chocolate bars. I have no fucking clue. I just wanted the day to be over so I could go pick up my brother. But what really made these last 10 minutes go slower was the drawling voice of of my math teacher. It was painful. I honestly thought I was going to die of boredom but God granted me mercy when I heard a voice blazing over the intercom.

"_Amy Valentine to the office please, Amy Valentine to the office." _The voice was my savior at that moment I stood from my chair and gathered my books in my arms. Olivia snickered as I began to exit the room.

"Committing more offenses Amy?" She smirked.

"They probably want to lecture me about the spiders I stuffed in your locker." I replied bluntly. Olivia visibly bristled and I didn't miss her disgusted face at the memory. I never actually put spiders in her locker, she would just accuse me of the crime saying I had young offender written all over me. It was fun to make her squirm at the memory of her opening her locker to find a nest of spiders. I was at the other end of the school at the time and I could still here her scream. I giggled as I climbed down the steps and turned a corner to get to the office. My steps faltered as I saw a group of people standing in front of the office. There was a woman and two other men. The woman had short blond hair and a kind face, she wore casual dress. The older of the two men had dark hair and eyes with a firm strait face. He wore a trench coat, tie and casual pants. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he had a belt that held a gun. This man was a cop. I thought the cops were done questioning me. Was this guy here to talk to me? The younger man looked like he was in his early twenties. He was leaning against the wall frowning at the ground. He had chestnut brown hair and a very youthful face. He wore casual jeans, T-shirt and jacket. I continued moving towards the office and soon the people focused their attention on me. I glanced at them as I walked by them to the front of the office. I placed my hands on the counter and leaned forward to get the attention of the lady sitting in her chair who was focused on her computer screen.

I cleared my throat. "I was told to come down here." The woman looked up at me.

"Amy?" She asked. I nodded. "That man wishes to speak to you." She pointed behind me with her pen before returning to her work. I cringed as she said this. I was really hoping that I would be able to get past the incident that happened this summer. I slowly turned to meet the hard face of the cop. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"I thought I was done talking to the cops." I inquired softly glancing around to see if anyone was looking.

The man pulled out his identification. I didn't look at it. I already knew he was a cop. "Miss Valentine, Im here to ask you a few questions about your experiences on June 24." He stated, calmly placing his badge back into his inside coat pocket.

I took a step back narrowing my eyes in suspicion. "I already told the police everything."

The man ignored my statement and continued with his interrogation. "Miss Valentine, you claimed that you were attacked by a killer doll called Chucky, correct?" He inquired.

I nodded, glancing around again.

"You also said that he was the one who gave you the gash on your leg and that he killed your foster parent. Is that right?"

I glanced behind me remembering the long scar running up my leg, remembering being soaked in Allison's blood. I nodded again turning back to him with cold hard eyes. "Yes." I whispered. I didn't understand why he was asking me all of this. The police already asked all of these questions. I told them everything already.

"Would you be willing to testify this in court?" He asked. The question caught me off guard.

"What?" I gaped at him dumbstruck. Testify? Court? What?

"We need you to testify in court so that the Chucky case can be cleared. We also need the blood that was collected from the doll." He answered.

I shook my head in confusion. I didn't understand. Why would he want to solve the Chucky case? Did he seriously believe the stories?

"Why?" I murmur looking up into his dark hardened eyes.

He motioned to the young man slumped against the wall. "We are trying to clear Andy Barclay's record."

My eyes widen as they wonder to the man leaning on the wall. _Andy Barclay._ Dark hazel eyes meet bright blue ones. The world freezes as we exchange unblinking stares. His eyes narrow into slits and mine grow into saucers. My form is tense, his is relaxed. My mouth hangs open, his is set in a firm line. My breathing is heavy and uneven, his is calm and steady.

"Andy Barclay." I breath the name out softly. The child who's life was destroyed by my father, stands before me, fully grown and vengeful. I nervously bite my lip nervously as he continues to glare at me in a very accusing way. This look sends me back to my stoic expression, because I know he has no right to blame me for anything. So my breathing evens out, my form relaxes, my mouth shuts tight and my eyes narrow leaving only accusing bright blue slits. The intense stare of two people, born to be enemies. We both see different things as we exchange the harsh stare. I see a boy holding a doll with crimson liquid gushing from his grinning lips and throat. I imagine he sees a crazed disheveled lunatic holding a bloodied knife.

And he breaths out my name. My real name. "Amy Ray."

**The fateful meeting of Amy and Andy. Hardly a Romeo and Juliet meeting. In fact Amy might kill Andy for calling her a Ray. **


	4. Chapter 4

My eye started to twitch and I visibly bristled. Rage started bubbling up inside me and soon my inner volcano would explode. My face twisted into a snarl and my hands clenched at my sides. He did not just call me that.

"What did you just call me?" My voice was deadly silent and dripping with venom. There was a dangerous glint in my eye. If this guy knew what was good for him he would back off.

Even under my killer gaze the boy did not flinch or show even the tiniest hint of fear. He remained perfectly calm. Which was very, _very_ aggravating.

He rose an eyebrow. "You really are his kid aren't you? One comment and your about ready to tear my head off." He observed rolling his eyes.

"Don't compare me to him." I snapped. My teeth bared as I seethed.

"You should get use to it, it's hard not to see the resemblance." He remarked. I didn't reply I just glared at him. My bright blue eyes became sharp as daggers.

The cop stepped in. "Miss Valentine do you except?" He pressed stepping between me and Barclay.

I looked at him with a blank stare and then sent Barclay a harsh glare. "No." I replied hotly. I turned on my heel ready to leave but then the cop said something that made me stop in my tracks.

"We will keep coming back Amy. And I doubt you are as good at hiding from the cops as your mother." The statement was enough to make me stand still with my back still facing them. My mother? How did this man know my mother? Who was he? The cop let out a bitter laugh. "The maneuver in the Chicago Midway Airport was impressive. I remember you though, you were the little girl who told me that you lost your parents. She made you a distraction right? I had no idea you were connected to her at the time." The cop recalled. At this statement realization hit me like a load of bricks. It can't be. There's no way.

Slowly I turned to meet his gaze. And then I recognized him. The man from the airport when I was 7. The man who had spent years hunting down my mother. The man from the graveyard. I grinned. "Detective Mike Norris." I chuckled. "It's been awhile."

"You two know each other?" The blond woman questioned. I smirked.

"Well I know him. My mother told me so much about you." I explained.

"Its good to know your mother didn't forget me." He stated.

"It's kind of hard to forget someone who spent 10 years chasing you." I responded smirking. Mike was about to respond when the bell rang in my ears. Finally. I had to go get Glen, even if this strange meeting was very amusing other that the jerk leaning against the wall.

I smiled at Mike sadly "As much as I would _love_ to help." I claimed sarcasticly. "I really just want to move on from the Chucky incedent, I'd rather not get involved in the case." I turned to Andy "Also I don't like you." I stated bluntly.

"Likewise." He retorted.

I glared at him. But I refused to stay here and give this guy anymore of my attention. So I turned away from them and headed for the nearest exit. Mike called out to me as I walked away.

"Amy, we need your help."

I looked over my shoulder and smirked. "You should have thought of that before Barclay called me Ray." I declared. With that I left, the door swinging shut behind me.

JabberJay

Mike let out an irritated sigh as the girl exited. He had not expected it to be easy convincing her to testify but that didn't stop him from hopping it would be.

Andy let out a bitter laugh "Well she's pleasant."

Karen gave him a stern look "You didn't have to purposely provoke her. We need her to help us Andy." She lectured.

Andy shrugged "It wasn't very hard to do, she is obviously very easy to set off."

"Andy we need to convince her to help us." Mike argued.

"Just tell her the truth, tell her no one will hire her with the record she has." Andy replied softly. "She is in the same situation as me, she has just yet to realize it."

"We'll have to confront her while she is going to pick up her brother." Mike stated as he headed for the door.

"She has a brother?" Karen asked.

"Apparently. There are hardly any records of him anywhere, but he is enrolled in the school system. Glen Valentine most definitely exists. My guess is that Tiffany Valentine had an affair with a man that resulted in a child. He couldn't have been more than a few months old at the time since he is only five now." Mike explained. "The children were most likely separated at their mothers passing and then recently reunited. Andy try not to get on her bad side. We really need her to like us not hate us."

Andy shrugged indifferently. "Fine, I'll try but Im not making any promises."

(*Katniss*)

Kenzie walked behind me giggling as she tried to fix Jacks hair. She kept on running her fingers through his thick black mop of hair while he continued to walk with an emotionless expression on his face. He was slightly hunched over so the tiny girl could reach the top of his head. Ever since they started going out during the summer they have been inseparable.

While we were all hanging out in the summer at Kenzie's house, Mackenzie randomly stood up and shouted that they should start dating. Jack stared at her for a full ten minuets with out braking eye contact, then finally asked if she was serious. Mackenzie laughed saying that she was dead serious and that she would prove it. She dragged Jack out of the house to an unknown location, leaving me alone and extremely confused.

She giggled again. "Jesus Jack, do you ever run a comb through your hair?" She questioned playfully. She planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth while she stood on her tip toes. She entangled their fingers together and caught up with me by jogging and dragging Jack behind her.

"Aww. You two are so cute." I mocked with a sweet tone while smirking.

Jack glared at me. "Shut up Amy." He grumbled. I giggled knowing that he really enjoyed having Mackenzie on his arm. As much as he tried to hide it. Im pretty sure Mackenzie knew as well.

"Well I'm already late for picking up Glen because you decided to groom your boyfriends hair." I accused "Now Glen is going to think I abandoned him."

We all approached the front of the elementary school. The area was deserted by now, most of the children already gone, leaving only an empty playground and the sound of the blowing wind. I usually never came this late but Mackenzie's affection slowed us down considerably. The wind made the swings shift and turn. All except one that was occupied by a small red head boy. He looked up at the sound of approaching people. A grin split his face when he saw me. He bolted off the seat and ran towards me with alarming speed. I lifted the boy off the ground easily when he was a foot away from me and swung him as I twirled in a circle. The child giggled hysterically as he flew through the air. I placed the child on the ground grinning at him as I knelt down at eye level.

"Sorry I kept you waiting kid." I apologized ruffling his soft fiery hair.

He smiled "It's fine. Guess what?" He asked excitedly.

I place my hands on his shoulders. "What?" I responded with childlike curiosity.

He reached into his dark blue backpack and pulled out a large piece of parchment paper. "We were told to draw something that we were afraid of in class today." He held the paper to his chest so I couldn't see the front. I frowned for a split second worried that he might have drawn Chucky and told someone about him. But the frown left my face as soon as it came. I didn't want to upset Glen.

"Thats strange. Why would they want you to do something like that?" I asked tilting my head slightly to the left.

"They said it would help us get rid of our fears." Glen rolled his eyes. He obviously knew such a thing would not work.

"What did you draw?" I inquired softly, as I gently tried to take the paper from his hands. Glen clutched it tighter in his hands blushing ferociously. "Oh come on honey. You wanted to show me." I told him. He bit his lip nervously and then thrusted the paper into my hands with his eyes tightly shut. I took it from his tiny hands thanking him quietly as I looked at the front. To my surprise the picture was not Chucky it was a turtle. Turtle?

I looked at Glen with an amused and astonished expression while he blushed staring at his shoes. "A Turtle?" I giggled slightly.

Glen glared at me. Though with his adorable face it was hardly intimidating. "Don't laugh Amy." He commanded sternly. I tried to desperately hold in my laughter but was failing miserably. Eventually my laughter tumbled out of my mouth in a fit of giggles. Glen huffed as he crossed his arms, his face redder than a tomato.

"Oh Baby, Im sorry its just...Turtles really?" I giggled.

"Don't expect me to come to your rescue when you get bitten by a giant turtle." He huffed.

"Honey. Turtles are herbivores." I explained grinning.

"Oh." Glen blushed an even deeper shade of red. God this kid was hysterical.

"Well I suppose there are worse things he could have drawn." A voice called out from behind me. I turned around to meet a pair of dark brown eyes. Mike Norris smiled softly at Glen who shyly hid behind me.

I glared at him. This man had no right to but into my life. "Why are you here?" I hissed. I saw Barclay woman from before behind him.

"We're not done talking yet, Miss Valentine."

**I was actually afraid of turtles when I was five. Face palm. I love writing for Glen he is such a mother flippen cute kid. Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

I stood from my kneeling position on the ground and pushed Glen behind me. My eyes narrowed on the cop. "We're done talking. I already told you I don't want anything to do with your case." Glen tugged on my skirt wanting to get my attention but I kept my ground and continued to glare at the man in front of me.

"And I told you we would be back." Mike responded. "Amy you really don't have much choice in the matter."

I raise an eyebrow. Was that a threat? "Oh yeah," I counter unwilling to back down. "What makes you say that?"

This time Andy speaks crossing his arms and giving me a cold hard stare. "Because your life choices rely on this as much as mine do. You may not realize it yet but because of what you claim to be true not many people will hire you. You had a pretty bad rep to begin with and now its even worse. You need to testify to clear both of our records or you can say goodbye to any decent career you will ever have."

What he says knocks my confidence down a few pegs. No one would hire me because of my history? But I needed to make a difference. I needed to show the world I was worth more than they gave me credit for. Most of all I needed to provide for Glen. I glance down at the tiny redhead and meet his huge and confused eyes. I didn't want him to live in a world where he would be prosecuted. No, he has already had enough of that. He deserves a great life. A life I cant give him, unless...

My face softens and I glance back up at the prying people in front of me. A long sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes in irritation and frustration.

"I'm only going if I can bring my brother." It isn't an exact 'Yes I will help you.' But the answer is clear as day anyway. Mike smirked and I immediately wanted to go back on my word. God this was going to be more difficult than I thought. But I needed to give Glen the best future he can have, and if that means sacrificing my pride, so be it.

"We can take you to your house so you can pack." Mike offered. Pack where was all this going to take place.

"Where are we going?" I ask raising my eyebrows curiously.

"Chicago, its where most of this started." He explained shrugging his shoulders lightly. I glare at him and take my brothers hand holding tightly like its my life line.

"When do we have to meet you at the airport?" I asked ignoring his offer. Mike frowns.

"The plane leaves at 6. Don't be late." He warns me. I could honestly care less about being late. I should show up late just to spite him.

I turn around dragging my brother behind me as I walk with my friends to Kenzie's house. As we walk my Mackenzie and Jack try to ask me what Mike wanted. I didn't answer. I didn't want them to get involved. Glen stayed quiet until we got into the house. I pulled him into the room and pulled out a large suitcase. I roughly stuffed clothes into the bag frustrated with the whole situation. When I had finished jamming Glen and my necessities into the case I slammed the lid shut. I plopped down on the bed and put my face in my hands. I really didn't want to get involved with anything to do with Chucky ever again. I got lucky last time when Jennifer defended me. What if testifying in court makes it worse? How the hell is a jury going to believe that a killer doll exists? Maybe I could get Jennifer to come with me. But I couldn't do that to her. She just got her baby back. If she got involved again they might take her away again saying that Jennifer was not mentally ready to take care of her. I couldn't ask her to do it. She already did enough.

I could see a tiny pair of feet stop in front of me through the cracks of my fingers. My eyes trailed up to meet Glens serious expression. His lips were in a firm tight line, his face was hard and firm, and his eyes were cold. The look didn't suit him. It was a look he got on his face when ever he talked about Chucky, or thought about him.

"What is the case about?" He asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

"Its him again Glen. Even after the little bastard is dead he still manages to screw with our lives." I complained, slamming my fists down on the bed.

Glen looked down at the ground a large frown on his lips and eyes lidded with sorrow. Another look that didn't suit the little guy. But soon his lips curled up slightly into a tiny smile. His large sapphire eyes sparkled with hope.

"Maybe after this is over we will never be bothered again. Maybe we will stop having nightmares." He insisted hopefully.

I grinned at the child. Nothing is knocking you down huh kid? "Yeah, after we are done with this we are moving on from this whole mess and never looking back. Ok? I will always be here for you Glen no matter what." I assured him softly. Moving forward with optimism and hope was all I could do now.

&(Candy)&

_I remember this. The smell of smoke, the smoldering heat, the roaring of flames and fire. Fire on all sides of me with no escape. I choke on the smoke that fills my lungs trying desperately to retrieve some oxygen. I know this feeling. Ive been here before. In a dream. In a nightmare. I look at the boy that is huddled in my arms but instead of a dark face and a pair of sapphire eyes I see a young face. Glens face. He looks up at me utterly terrified. I want to say something comforting to him but I still choke on the toxic smoke that I continue to breath in. I look up to see the same four people surrounding me. All of them look the same. With the same black faces, same glowing supernatural eyes, all except one. The man who was stabbed with hazel eyes still lies on the floor trying to crawl towards me but a face has been added. Andy Barclay. His face is contorted in agony and pain. He is screaming something at me but I cant understand. All I can hear in the roar of the fire. Again I try to back away with Glen securely in my arms but my exit is blocked by flames. But then a terrible horror unfolds before my eyes. My baby brothers skin turned black and slowly melts like candle wax. Bits of flesh peel from his bone. His blood and skin mix into a gory mess that drips to the floor leaving a red and beige puddle. His eyes fall out of their sockets and topple to the floor and continue to glow and erie sapphire color. All that is left in my arms is a skeleton with pieces of flesh still stuck to bone. I drop him to the ground and when he falls in the puddle the gore splatters all over the wedding dress I am wearing. Why am I in a wedding dress? I scream as I watch everyone else drop like flies into their own puddle of their melted flesh and blood. I back away from the bodies and drift closer to the fire. Again I hear the voice whispering my name. Again I turn too see a pair of sparkling amber eyes. Eyes that I now recognize. Eyes that I now know. Allison._

"_Amy." She whispers "You are wort more than this." She backs towards the flames and slowly burns._

_I follow without a second thought and begin to burn alive with her. But I do not scream or struggle, I just allow the flames to slowly disintegrate my skin and flesh with the warmth. Just when my own skin starts to melt everything freezes and my vision is blocked by crimson. Blood. _


	6. Chapter 6

I bolted up from my sitting position and my forehead connected with the short airplane roof above me. I cringed in pain and slowly sat back down. Glen leaned over concerned for me. I want to give him an encouraging smile but I continued to hold my throbbing head. Fuck that hurt. A flight attendant walks up beside my chair and smiles politely.

"Are you alright miss?" she asks sweetly.

"I'm fine." I mutter irritably.

"Do you normally thrash in your sleep?" Andy asks from the other lain beside my seat and Glens.

"Don't talk to me Barclay." I snapped at him. I didn't want to deal with him right now. But when I turn to face him I see the image of his flesh melting from his bones. I shivered at the memory and turn away from him. Why did I have that dream again? Did it mean something? Why were Allison, Glen and Andy there? When I first had thus dream I didn't know any of them let alone know their eye color. Why was I wearing a wedding dress? Why did they all melt before my eyes? Why did I see blood at the end of the dream? All these questions and many more consumed my thoughts. I subconsciously pondered on the dream for the rest of the plane ride. Glen spent most of the trip trying to ask me what was wrong but I continued to ignore him, focusing all my attention on the clouds outside my window.

I watched as the plane descended from the sky to the ground. I sighed heavily when I observed my surroundings outside the plane. I wasn't even off the plane yet and I already missed LA. When I lived in Lockport with my mom I was desperate to return to Chicago. But after living in a tropical paradise, it was less than enjoyable to return to my city of birth. I didn't really notice until now how unsafe and rough the area where I grew up was. The dark, dank, undersized house that was practically falling apart and ready to collapse. We moved into the place when I turned three because my mom didn't want to stay in a tiny trailer with me at that age. I ran around a lot. I remember that my mom would shout at me for going near the downstairs window and peaking outside and she would never let me step one foot outside without her. I never really understood why, until I got older and realized just what kind of neighborhood I grew up in. I'm never going back there, and I'm sure as hell not letting Glen anywhere near that area. In fact when this stupid trial or whatever was over I was taking my brother back to Los-angelus.

Blue

Glen gripped my hand tightly as we exited the airport. He would always shake up like a leaf whenever I took him to a new place. On the first day of school he locked himself up in the bathroom, crying about not wanting to go. It took Mackenzie half an hour to coax him out of hiding. I'm pretty sure that right now he was ready to head for the nearest closed in space and wait for someone to persuade him to come out. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, reminding him that I was still there and not leaving his side. I turned to Mike and gave him a blank stare.

"Where exactly are we supposed to go? It's not like you can just leave us on the street and then pick us up when it's time for me to testify," I stated.

Mike gave me a hardened look. "Everyone will be staying at my place until I gather up enough evidence to put this case up in court," he replied bluntly.

"What?" Andy and I shouted in unison. We gave each other sideways glares.

"There is no way in hell I'm staying in the same house as a serial killer, especially when she is related to him," he argued.

I turned to him and crossed my arms. "I'm sorry mister Barclay but last time I checked you have a more messed up history than me," I countered. "What the hell gives you the right to judge me?"

"I'm pretty sure that if anyone deserves to judge you it would be me. After all who do you think messed up my childhood in the first place?" he challenged.

"Are you seriously trying to blame your fucked up life on me?" I asked placing my hands on my hips. "I wasn't even born yet at the first time that he attacked you."

"Ok, both of you stop it." Mike ordered sternly. "I get it that neither of you want to be in the same room, but right now what matters most is getting you two out of the gutter. Now suck it up so we can all get through this together."

"This will be loads of fun," I muttered to myself.

"Now come on we need to get started."

Green

I watched from a distance as Mike opened the door to his house and guided Karen and Andy inside. He turned to me waiting expectantly. "Are you waiting for an invitation Valentine?"

I gave him a sneer as I pulled Glen into the house. I heard the door close behind me. The house was nicely furnished but it was littered with papers and boxes full of papers. I shuffled my way around the disorganized piles of information that covered most areas of the floor.

"Ever think of hiring a maid," I snickered still trying to maneuver my way around the room.

Mike ignored my comment and walked over to the sofa pulling up one of the boxes onto the coffee table. He placed 4 other boxes onto the tables.

Mike turned back to us. "Each of these boxes contains every scrap of information I could find on each case," he stated motioning towards the boxes. "They are labeled by the order in which the cases occurred. Now I want both of you to sit down and plow through all of these papers until you find some useful evidence and are able to stand being in each others company."

My mouth dropped. I thought I only had to testify in court and live under the same roof as this guy. Not find all the fucking evidence and work hand in hand with him. This was never part of the deal. Andy was obviously opposed to the turn of events as well.

"You can't be serious. I thought you said you had all the information," he complained

"I said I had the information but I did not say I had any of the useful evidence," he replied. "Now that's your job," he turned away from us and headed towards the door. "Mrs Barclay can you please take care of Glen Valentine while these two work, I need to take care of some things."

Karen nodded a little stunned.

Mike turned to Glen. "Come on Glen, your sister has a lot of work to take care of." Glen looked at me with questioning eyes and all I could do was stare at him in shock. Karen walked over and took my little brothers hand guiding him out the door. Mike followed them and closed the door, leaving Andy and I alone and dumbstruck.

Yellow

I tried to ignore Andy fiddling with the Swiss army knife in his fingers. It was as if he expected me to lunge at him at any moment. He kept on sending me sideways glares as he pretended to be focused on the papers in front of him. His paranoia was starting to get on my nerves and I was about ready to rip the fucking knife from his grasp and throw it out the window. The more I thought about that course of action the more appealing it seemed. Before any rational thought could make way into my dumb little head I lunged for the knife in his hands and he immediately responded fighting me off tooth and nail. I managed to grasp the handle of the knife and ripped it from his hand. Andy let out a cry of pain as I scrambled off the couch and headed for the window. I hurled the knife out the window and slammed it shut.

"I'm am fucking sick of people believing I'm a murderer. I've been getting that kind of shit since I was 10 years old. I really don't need this sort of crap from you right now!" I yelled "Now we need to sort our differences out if-" My words died in my throat when I saw Andy holding his palm examining it with a pained expression. His thumb was pressing down on the flesh right next to the long cut up his hand. The pressure caused the blood to ooze out of the wound. Well, that's just fucking perfect. I must have cut him with the knife when I took it away from him. Now it really looks like I'm a blood thirsty killer. He must be convinced by now. I stared at the gash on his hand. Would he believe me if I said I didn't mean to hurt him? Most likely not. I slowly walked over to the couch and leaned over to inspect the wound. I reached out my hand to analyze it further and see if he needed stitches. When my hand came close to his he jerked violently and sent me a deathly glare.

"Stay the hell away from me!" he yelled scrambling over to the other side of the couch.

"I'm trying to help!" I shouted already beyond frustration.

Andy let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah I think you've helped enough," he motioned to his hand.

I bit my bottom lip and looked away from the wound.

"Just leave me alone," Andy stood from the couch and stormed up the stairs. I flinched when I heard the loud slam of a door.

This was absolutely not a step in the right direction. I let out a loud sigh. I never meant to hurt him. I was just so frustrated with everything that was going on. And now because of that bright idea the next few days are going to be hell.

I am so sorry that this took so long I am going to try to update sooner. I just lost my inspiration and got obsessed with Death Note, again. I hope you all like the new chapter. Please Review.


	7. Chapter 7

The days began to grow more awkward as time passed. Even though Andy refused to speak to me and I in return didn't acknowledge him, Mike still forced us to work together and find evidence on the case. We barely have anything useful though. And when I say we barely have anything I mean we have absolutely nothing. Through out the entire time we have been "working" together all we have managed to do is ignore each other and pretend to read the same piece of paper over and over and over again.

Today was exactly the same as all the other days that we were forced to spend together. Both of us were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. I was reading the same paper I have been reading over for the past few days. Andy was doing the same, with his own private paper. For awhile we just sat there in awkward silence, until Andy let out an exasperated sigh and stood from the couch. He shuffled his way around the piles of papers and files and climbed up the stairs. I wasn't quite sure why he left, but it's not like he would tell me so I could really care less. But I had a feeling he was as tired and bored as me. I would rather do anything else other than this. My eyes wondered around for something, anything, that would destroy my unbearable boredom. My eyes halted on the oddly shaped table that was covered in a white sheet and had a few boxes on the surface. I never really noticed it before but now that I look closely at it I can see it's not a table at all. I quickly stood up and walked over to the sheet covered object. I carefully lifted all the boxes from the top and set them down on the floor. I threw the sheet to the side to reveal a gorgeous shinning black grand piano. I grinned at the sight of the instrument. Why would Mike keep something so beautiful underneath a sheet like that. I sat down on the stool in front of the keyboard. My hands slowly traced along the black and white keys. It had been many years since I've played the piano. I didn't really remember many of the songs that I learned and for the ones I did remember, I don't recall a lot of the notes. There was one song that always stayed in my memory. My mother loved waltz of the flowers from the nutcracker. It was her favorite song, so I played it more often than any other one. I was still pretty rusty, and without sheet music it would be difficult to play it correctly. But I was still bored out of my mind and ready to do anything other than read that piece of paper again. I adjusted my feet on the pedals and placed my fingers over the keys. The first few notes were easy to remember and once I got the hang of using the keys, playing out the song became much more simple. My fingers stumbled a bit, not quite as graceful as they use to be, and hit a few wrong notes. I flinched a bit when the song screeched out of tune and my hands flew away from the keyboard causing the room to become dense with silence. Maybe if I practiced a bit more I would be able play the song as well as I could when I was younger. Just as my fingers were lingering above the keys, ready to play again, a voice cut through the thick silence like a knife.

"Where did you learn how to play?" Andy asked leaning against the wall on the other end of the room next to the staircase.

My eyes narrowed when they met those empty pits of hazel. His expression was completely and utterly unreadable. Which pissed me off to know end. How the hell could he talk to me so calmly after refusing to speak to me for days? Did he have some kind of ulterior motive. "Why are you so social-able all of a sudden?" I sneered, standing up from the stool and leaning forward in question.

Andy kept eye contact and shrugged. "Just curious."

I pursed my lips in annoyance. This guy has some nerve, acting like after all that time he spent ignoring me he can just start some small talk. Well if he thinks that if we share a few curt responses, everything will be fine and dandy he can forget-. My thoughts are cut off when I see something soften in his eyes. I can't see the dark eyes that belonged to the cold young man who addressed me as Ray. I can only see the eyes of a small boy with his knees held to his chest, crying and begging me not to leave him. A boy who was left alone in the world with no one to care for him. A boy who had his childhood and happiness ripped away from him. By _my_ father. father. If I was in his position, I wouldn't trust the daughter of a killer either. But I don't want him not to trust me. I don't want him to be afraid of me. I don't want to leave him alone in this. It would be like ignoring Glen as he cried in the middle of the hospital room. Our fathers blood soaking into his jeans and his tears spilling from his eyes. I could never do that. I'm not going to do that. I swear to myself that I will never let my father hurt this boy or my brother or me ever again.

"My mother taught me," I whispered, looking at my hands. "She started teaching me when I was four up till I was 10."

He nods in what seems like interest. My eyes linger on the cut that I gave him, now covered in white bandages.

"Sorry about your hand." I apologized.

He glances down at the wound for a moment before offering another shrug. "I've had worse," he replies looking away for a second before his eyes once again meet mine. "Sorry for calling you a serial killer. I can tell you take offense to that."

I smile a little. "I've had worse."

I can see the corners of his lips curl up into a small smile.

My face turns serious and in turn as does his. "I don't want to kill you Barclay."

He raises an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk. "That's comforting."

I frowned at the comment. I'm trying to be serious damn it. "I mean that I'm not some psychopath looking for revenge for her father," I explained "I don't want to be like him."

He doesn't say anything. He just stays leaning on the wall.

I let out a large irritated sigh. "I understand why you don't trust me. I would feel the same if I was in your position," I stated. "But I am not like him. I've never killed anyone before and I don't plan to. Please believe me," I begged.

He stares at me for a few moments that seem like hours and for awhile I wonder if he is going to answer the way I think he will. But then he catches me off guard with his strange answer.

"The crazy thing is," he pauses. "That I do believe you. I feel pretty naive saying that, considering how often Chucky lied to me. But I honestly think your not a killer. I must be the most gullible idiot in the world." He laughed bitterly.

I frowned. "Is it really that hard to believe that I'm not a killer."

"Actually it's easy to believe that your not. Either you are very good at lying or you're telling the truth," he reasoned, smiling lightly.

I gave him a dead pan stare. "I don't know if that's an insult or a compliment."

"You should take it as a compliment," he smiled. "I'm not really a cold person you know. I just really didn't want to talk to you."

"I could tell," I replied. "What changed your mind?"

Andy began to walk towards the table at a leisurely pace. "I guess I realized how immature I was acting, and that acting bitter wouldn't help my situation in the slightest," he placed his elbows on the pianos surface and leaned forward on it. "And after seeing how you were around your brother. You seemed much kinder towards him. The way you acted kind of reminded me of-" his voice trailed off and his eyes went vacant for a moment as he stared off into space. Andy shook his head and the light smile reappeared on his face. "Anyway, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. We should probably start over." I rose a cynical eyebrow. Andy held out his hand and gave me a wide grin. "Hi I'm Andy, what's your name?"

I really don't think he knew how much that sentence effected me. The memory of the same boy but much younger, repeating that sentence with a slit throat and holding a doll, was less than pleasant. The thought of the nightmare is enough to make me shiver. But I shake off the undesired feeling and memories so that I may focus on Andy's intentions instead of his words.

I stare at his hand for a moment and then let out a breathy laugh.

"You're joking, right?" I asked cynically.

Andy let out a lighthearted laugh. "Of course not," he laughed. "If were going to want to solve this case with out killing each other, we should probably have a proper introduction."

I gave him a smirk and rolled my eyes. "That is a really stupid idea," I argue. "We already know each other, what's the point?"

Andy frowned at me and then took my hand in his. And shook it gently.

"Hello, my name is Andy Barclay," he repeated "What is your name?"

I sighed in defeat and shook his hand in return. "My name is Amy Valentine."

Andy gave me a warm smile. "That wasn't so hard now was it?" he mocked me slightly with a cocky look.

I gave him a pout and pulled on his sleeve gently.

"Come on," I urged. "We have work to do.


	8. Chapter 8

My eyes continue to wonder towards Andy. After I finally managed to read the words on the page I've had in my hands for a week, I discovered the kind of trauma that he went through at such a young age. No child should have to suffer like that. I try not to look at him with pity. I know that the last thing he would want is people looking at him like he's a puppy that was kicked to many times. He was far to strong and enduring to be treated like some sort of charity case. I remember how much I hated it when people looked at me like I was a poor mistreated mental child that went through my whole life without the slightest bit of compassion. I tried not to pay to much attention to the information about Andy. I don't want to be like everyone else who feels pity for him and thinks he's a tragic psychopath, like how I use to see him. I look at him now and I see a strong young man worn down from years of abuse and torment. He's been fighting this was longer than I have. I suppose I owe it to him to not treat him like I did before. Hopefully my mouth doesn't run away with me again. I would rather stay on this page of tolerance so I can get this case over with.

"I honestly have no idea how we are supposed to do this," I sigh defeatedly as I put down the papers. "How are we supposed to prove to the public that a killer doll was responsible for these murders?"

Andy shrugged. "I have no idea," he admitted. "Mike just called me and stated that with your help we may be able to clear our records. He has yet to tell me how he plans to accomplish this after we gather any evidence that is remotely useful."

Great. What could Mike be hiding from Andy? It better be a pretty spectacular plan if we need the general public to believe in the supernatural. This whole thing seemed useless. But I might as well play along to see what I get out of it.

"So where exactly did your brother come from?" I heard Andy ask.

I looked up and rolled my eyes.

"It's a really long story," I sighed softly.

Andy smiled lightly and shrugged. "I have time."

"It's pretty ridiculous. Even I got confused after he told me," I laughed.

"I think I can handle it," he pressed eager to hear my story.

"Fine," I relented. "Now first of all I don't know much but I'll just tell you what I know. Apparently Glen was found in a graveyard in Hackensack by some British drunk guy."

"Wait!" Andy interrupted. "Why was he in a graveyard?"

"Look I don't know much about the story but apparently during the 1999 case when my mothers soul was put into a doll, she gave birth to my brother."

Andy rose an eyebrow. "She gave birth when she was a doll?"

I nodded. "Don't even ask my how that is possible, cause I have honestly no idea." Andy nodded signaling me to continue. "Since Glen was born a doll the British guy used him as a puppet and pretended to be an insanely talented ventriloquist. The kid went through hell, no scrap of affection from anyone. And yet he still managed to love everyone in the whole world." I laughed lightly. "Well he ran away after he found out that our parents were in LA. They were being used as props for that 'Chucky goes Psycho' movie that was being made last summer."

That sparked a bit of remembrance in Andy's eyes. "I remember that movie. I'm pretty sure they had to cancel the movie after the murders."

I nodded. "They also had to stop after Jennifer Tilly quit and the police confiscated the dolls."

"You know when it was being made some crazy reporter tried to get an interview with me. He claimed to want to see into the mind of the boy who started it all," Andy scoffed in annoyance. "The director even asked if he could get Ryan Reynolds to portray me in the movie."

My eyes widened. "Really?" I asked softly. Andy nodded with a light scowl. "That's actually kind of awesome. I mean that guy is really cute. You should be flattered."

Andy gave me a dead pan stare.

"I mean you should be flattered if the whole thing wasn't so insulting," I laughed nervously.

"Just keep telling your story," Andy grumbled.

I bit my bottom lip in order to stifle a giggle.

"Ok," I laughed. "When Glen got to LA he managed to reawaken Chucky and my mother some how. This is where it gets kind of confusing. You see they got into Jennifer Tilly's limo and decided that my mother would transfer her soul into Jennifer and Chucky would transfer his soul into a guy, Redman. But before they could do that they needed to impregnate Jennifer so the Glen would have a host for his soul."

"Ok you lost me," Andy interrupted. "I thought that Chucky needed me to transfer his soul into because I was the first one he revealed his real name to."

"I have no idea how all this stuff actually works," I admitted. "Im only telling you what Glen told me. So apparently they used a voodoo pregnancy so that it would take less time. My mom said to Glen that she didn't want to get pregnant again. So I guess during this time Chucky found out where I was," I paused unsure if I wanted to talk about Allison. I wasn't very comfortable with talking about how she died. "I came home from a party one night and Allison, my foster parent, was dead and Chucky was waiting for me. He cut my leg open and knocked me out with a stone vas."

Andy nodded. "That's when you woke up in Jennifer Tilly's house?"

"Yeah," I answered softly. "Jennifer was already completely pregnant. And since the man who Chucky was supposed to posses was killed they used Jennifer's limo driver, Stan, instead. So Joan who was Jennifer's friend ended up coming into the house and she was killed by Chucky but when she came in she set off an alarm that alerted the police. When Jennifer had the baby it turned out to be a girl so they decided they wouldn't use her and just find a different boy for Glen to possess. As they were about to transfer their souls into Jennifer and Stan the police arrived at the house. We all started screaming for help and my mother was screaming at him to do some type of chant. Eventually Chucky screamed at us to shut up. He said that he didn't want to try to posses a human and he just wanted to stay a doll."

Andy scoffed. "Great timing. Why couldn't he decide that before he messed with my life?"

"It was kinda out of the blue as well. It was probably do to years of messed up scenarios," I shrugged. "My mom said that she didn't want to be a doll so they couldn't be together anymore. Chucky was pissed after that and almost killed Jennifer but I managed to break out of my bounds in time to knock him with a lamp post. The cops finally busted into the room but and took us to the hospital after we were questioned and cleared. Jennifer was nice enough to pay for my surgery on my leg. We were in the same hospital room and when Stan had to leave my mom came in and tried to transfer her soul into Jennifer. But then Chucky broke into the room with an axe and forced the axe into her head and killed her."

"Wait all he needed to do was that?" Andy asked. "How come they are so easy to kill?"

"Stop interrupting," I ordered. "After he killed her Glen snapped. He took the axe from Chucky and cut off his arms screaming at his father if he was proud of him for being a killer. He chopped off his head and he just broke down crying." I thought back to that night. The night when everything changed for me. Some things for the bad. Some things for the good. Glen was one of the good things.

"What made you want to take him in?" Andy asked softly.

"I don't know," I replied. "I guess I just didn't want to leave him alone. He deserved a lot better then that. But I think the real reason was because he gave me hope. He was tormented his entire life and still he didn't feel hate for anyone in the world. He gave me a feeling that maybe by being with him, someone like me could...I don't know." I pause. "He makes me feel like I can still be a good person. A person who just loves and excepts everyone. I have a long way to go but as long as I have Glen I can make it anywhere. He's my hope. He's my world."

Andy smiled bitterly and looked up at the ceiling. "It's nice that you don't have to do it alone. That you have someone who understands you." he looks to the ground and sighs. "I wish I did."

I stare at him for a while, trying to think of something to say. I'm not very good at comforting people. Sure I can calm them down when their panicking and screaming. But when they have that dead broken look in their eyes like their life is changing for the worse, my mind goes blank and a gape like a goldfish.

"Look," I start. Andy looks to the side so his dark eyes meet mine. Shit now I don't know what to say. Damn it I shouldn't have started that sentence in the first place. I have to say something so I don't look like a complete idiot. "I'm not sure what it's like to be you." That was a horrible start I sound like a stuck up bitch. "But... well I guess I sort of came close. In a way." Ill just get ready for the silent treatment again. "So just know that, um you're not alone. And if you need... well anyone to talk to um you know."

That was really uncomfortable. God I'm bad at this. I have no idea how I should talk to this guy. I don't know how sensitive the issue is for him.

"Thank you," he whispered. The words shock me and when I look at him I see him giving me a genuine smile of appreciation.

I smile back and feel a hundred percent better. "You're welcome."

**Hello readers. Long time no see. Yes I am still among the living, if you cared you would know that all this time i have been working on my once upon a time story. I honestly had no where to go in this fanfic for a while and I wasn't sure what I should do. Im not going to stop writing it but for now ouat is my main priority. Im almost done that one so hopefully this one can share the limelight. Now the reason that I was un able to update this one is because I have no idea what the laws state when it comes to well killer dolls. So don't expect anything law and order stuff cause honestly I have no idea how the courts would deal with this. Just be aware that you are reading a fanfic by a dumb canadian 15 year old girl that is full of bullshit that could not possibly happen in the real world. **


	9. Chapter 9

Andy gave me a queer glance when I held out the badly wrapped gift towards him.

"It's your birthday today," I stated with an uneasy smile. "Right?"

"Yeah," he answered, slowly taking the gift from me. "How did you figure that out?"

"It said so in the files," I shrugged. "Apparently you received Chucky on your sixth birthday."

"Worst birthday to date," he muttered.

"Sorry," I replied as I looked to the floor.

"You should stop apologizing," he ordered. "I told you I didn't blame you for my crappy life. As you said, you weren't even born at the time."

"Yeah, I know," I mumbled as I took a seat next to him on the couch. "So are you going do have a party?"

"No," he laughed. "I haven't had a birthday party since I was six."

I quirked up an eyebrow and glanced at him. "Really?" I asked. "You weren't going to do anything?"

"No," he answered stiffly. "As you can tell, I have to do work in order to save both of us. You should be grateful I'm not celebrating."

"You need to have more fun," I stated, grabbing the files he had been holding in hands. "Open the gift."

A tiny smile graced his lips and he gave me a sideways glance. He focussed his attention on the tiny present I presented to him and started to tear apart the paper.

He pulled out the CD and discarded the wrapping paper.

"Coldplay," he read. "Kristen liked this album. I don't think anyone really uses CD's anymore."

My head tilted to the side. "Who's Kristen?" I asked.

Andy looked back at me. "Just a girl I knew when I was 16," Andy mumbled. "We met in military school."

I smiled slyly. "Just a girl," I mocked. "Is the connection a bit deeper than that, I wonder."

Andy rolled his eyes. "We went out for a while," he admitted. "But we kind of grew apart. She's actually a high ranking military officer now."

"So you two broke up?" I asked slightly disappointed.

"How many relationships have you heard of that last through high-school?" Andy replied. "Anyway it's not like I never had another girlfriend after her."

I frowned a little. "I new someone who had a relationship out of high school," I argued, my stubbornness drove me to not back down from a kinda sorta challenge. "They actually got married in high school."

Andy laughed. "Well they sound brilliant," he answered sarcastically. "Do you know if they happened to stay together?"

I open my mouth ready to answer with a spitfire comment but then the words die in my throat. I actually hadn't heard from Jesse in years. I had to wonder if he was even still alive. The thought made me shiver involuntarily.

"Would you just thank me for the gift?" I scowled as I slouched into couch.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile. "You didn't have to though."

"Your welcome," I smiled. "We should listen to it while we work. It will sort of be like a party."

"Knock yourself out," he muttered. "I doubt we will get as much done that way though."

"You are such a downer," I laughed as I searched for a CD player. "It would be nice if Mike would embrace the 21st century and cleaned his house once in a while."

"It's underneath the piano," he called out to me as I continued my search. "I don't think Mike has that much of an interest in music."

"That makes sense," I mumbled as I took the disk and placed it in the player. I fiddled with the dials and buttons until I had the volume and song I preferred. I picked the player up and placed it on top of the piano.

As the music flooded through out the room I made my way back to the couch.

I sat next to him I looked at him curiously. I didn't know much about the man that sat beside me. I suppose all I knew was a child that spent his years in his own privet hell. All he is to me is a name, a helpless victim that was unfortunate to cross paths with my father. I didn't know I didn't really know Andy Barclay beyond his experiences with killer dolls.

"So," I said slowly. "Did any of the girls you dated know about your...umm...past?"

"Not really," he answered with a light laugh. "It's not exactly the kind of thing you bring up on a date."

I bit my lip in slight embarrassment. I guess that wouldn't go over very well. "So what did they know about you?" I asked, leaning over slightly to look into his eyes. It's like my mother always used to say, people are a lot more honest when you looked them in the eye, or when you hold a knife to their throat.

He turned slightly to face me. "They just knew stuff," he muttered as he looked down.

"What kind of stuff?" I pressed with an unyielding persistence.

"Why on earth are you so curious about it?" he argued, pretty much avoiding the question. "It's not that big of a deal."

I shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I just want to know more about you," I answered honestly. "All I know about you is what the newspapers say. What is the real Andy Barclay like?"

Andy crossed his arms over his chest almost as if he was defending himself. He was a very guarded person. Being exposed to the horrors of this world at such a young age probably effected him in a very negative way. I remember Allison mentioning such a thing before. How because of some traumatizing experience I had when I was younger the way I interacted with people was effected. I had a difficult time trusting people, probably because I could only see the evil that lurked in a persons heart. Innocence had always been something foreign to me for as long as I could remember. Ever since I saw my mother tear a mans throat out when I was three. The only truly pure and innocent person in my life was Glen, and even he had been exposed, briefly, to the poisons of our less than ideal life and family. I cringed when I thought of the axe being brought down, and the blood that flowed across the white tiled floor.

I focussed my attention on Andy once again, trying to erase such thoughts from my mind. "Andy Barclay's life was consumed by a killer doll named Chucky. I was always being persecuted for my less than generous past," Andy whispered softly. "What am I other then the boy who cried wolf?"

"Andy," I sighed slightly. "You are more than just a tragic story, Im sure there is more to you than that."

Andy's lips twitched upward ever so slightly, but the smile seemed very grim. "You would be one of the first to think that about me," Andy admitted. "Everyone thinks I'm just a horribly messed up and unfortunate case of childhood trauma. They are probably right about me."

I narrowed my eyes crossed my arms. "They're only right when you start to believe that they're right," I snapped. "Andy, people are going to tell you who you are your whole life, you just have to punch back and say no this is who I am. If you want people to look at you differently, make them. You want things to change, then you are going to have to go out there and change them yourself. Because no one is going to do it for you and there is no way that all those people are going to suddenly see the light and start treating you like a human being. If they are convinced that they see you one way then you prove them all wrong and show them exactly what you are capable of."

I can see slight surprise glitter in his hazel irises. "You're quite the motivational speaker," he smirked. "I can tell you take it personally."

I rolled my eyes and reached for one of the files on the table. "Well," I glowered. "Lets just say you're not the only one who has been persecuted for your less than glamorous past."

kkkkkk

I yawned as I stumbled down the stairs to the main floor, rubbing my eyes in exhaustion. As my bare feet touched the soft carpet of the bottom floor I could hear voices that were strangely familiar to me. I walked into the living room with curiosity blooming inside of me. I rounded to corner to see Andy watching the image my fist colliding with the face of a reporter on the television screen. Andy turned when he heard the soft padding of my footsteps. His smile had a slight mischievous tinge to it.

"Good morning," he greeted a bit too heartily. "I was just watching your live interview."

"Yeah," I sneered. "I noticed that. Before you go off scolding me you should know that he deserved it. My actions were completely justified."

"Oh no doubt," Andy laughed. "But I have to say that your form is not very good."

"Excuse me?" I asked, slightly offended by the comment.

"I mean your punch," he corrected. "It wasn't very strong and your form wasn't right."

"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "It knocked the man to the ground."

"Because he wasn't expecting it," Andy stated. "If you were up against someone who was expecting it you wouldn't have a shot."

"Really?" I spat sarcastically. "What makes you the expert of this?"

Andy smiled and stood from the couch. "We did have to learn hand to hand combat in military school," he answered as he walked over to me. "Do you want me to teach you?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "As if I would need your help."

"I would say you do," Andy argued, coming up beside me. "Come on let me show you."

I reluctantly accepted with a burning interest in what he had to say and in what the "proper" form was. Andy stood in front of me.

"Alright lets see what you can do," he started holding up his hand. "Hit my hand as hard as you can and try to knock it back."

I coiled my hand into a fist and thrusted it with as much force as I could manage toward the former soldiers hand. He caught my fist with little effort and his hand didn't move an inch.

Andy smiled like an kindly teacher which infuriated me. "Stand up straight," he ordered. I immediately followed the demand. Im not sure why. Usually I am much more rebellious towards people who told me what to do. But Andy had a very commanding air around him. He did seem like the leader type. He reached over behind me and pressed on the small of my back so my posture straightened to the form he preferred. He stepped closer and held my fist in a firm but gentle grip. "Now pull you hand back. Your strength relays on the pull back." I nodded and let him push my hand back. I looked up into his eyes and just now notice our close proximity. Andy's gaze travels to mine and he stares at me silently as if he's searching for something lurking in my eyes. I swallow a large lump that had began to swell in my throat. Andy remains motionless, almost petrified if it weren't for his soft breathing, with a very lost look in his eyes.

"I hope Im not interrupting anything," a voice pierced through the tense atmosphere. I couldn't decide if I was relieved or angry. Andy and I quickly backed away from each other.

Mike walked over to us with the stern expression of a father lecturing a disobedient child. "If you two aren't too busy, it would be nice if we actually got somewhere in this case."

Andy rolled his eyes and smirked at Mike. "We've already finished gathering your evidence," Andy stated picking up the pile of papers that we created within the last few weeks. He handed it over to Mike as his facial features took on a more serious tone. "So when do we go to court?" he asked softly as Mike looked through the sorted evidence.

"We're not going to court," he stated as he continued to look through the pages.

Andy and I stared at him in shock. What the hell was that supposed to mean? What would be the point of gathering all this stupid evidence if we weren't going to use it?

"What?" I exclaimed. "Why the hell not?"

"How are we supposed to clear our records if we don't take this case to court?" Andy asked with a spark of anger in his dark eyes.

Mike sighed "Do you really think that any court will believe this story?" Mike argued. "Last time this case went to court your mother ended up in a mental asylum."

"Then what are we going to do with your damn evidence," I snapped.

Mike sent a scolding glare my way. "You really don't know anything about this case do you?" I didn't miss the mocking tone in his voice. "There is only one person that we need to prove Chucky's existence to."

"Who?" Andy asked suspiciously. His hand held me back from lunging at Mike which I so desperately wanted to do. Mike casted his now hesitant gaze to the ground. Andy's eyes widened in realization. "No. Not him. There has to be someone else."

"There's not," Mike muttered gruffly.

I looked between both of them confused. "I'm sorry," I interrupted. "Who are you two talking about?"

"The man who is the only shot either of you have got at clearing your records."


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok before you all leave because you already read the chapter. You should know that I added a bit more to it because I didn't like the last captors ending. Okay so read on. **

My mouth hung open as my head tilted up to look at the top of the building towering over me. Glens expression mirrored mine. Andy came up behind me and gripped my shoulder.

"I told you not to bring the kid." he hissed.

I rolled my eyes and ripped my shoulder away. "He's not going to do anything. He'll be good." I grinned. "So who is the guy were trying to talk to again?"

Mike walked over to us and glanced up to the top of the building. "Sullivan. Eric Sullivan. He's the son of Christopher Sullivan. The kid took over his fathers company when he was 15, after the man died." He stated.

"15?" I questioned. "Is that even aloud?"

"He was very well known as a child prodigy," Mike answered. "Being highly intelligent and accomplished for his age, he managed to get his hands on most of the shares and took over the company."

Andy stepped forward and opened the door. "He completely remade the company, building the thing from the ground up." Andy continued while holding the door open for us. "He dropped the toy projects and started creating expensive electronics. Apparently kids are more into that these days anyway."

"He's been trying to cover up the Chucky story for years. Suffocating any attempt to bring the issue up. After working so hard and so long to rebuild his fathers company, he didn't want to let the rumors of a killer doll from years ago tear it all down. The making of the film was the only thing he couldn't stop. He tried to stop it when it was in production but the director was stubborn. Wouldn't except any bribes." Mike explained. "He figured that if nothing about the case was revealed the whole thing would just disappear one day."

I glanced over at him as we came up to the front desk. "Kinda like an out of sight out of mind issue." I mumbled glancing around the large main lobby.

Mike walked up to the front desk where a young woman was filing her crimson painted nails and chatting excessively on her pink cell phone that was held between her shoulder and her ear.

Placed his hands on top of the counter and leaned forward.

"Excuse me miss," he interrupted politely, a pretty big change in his usual attitude. "We are here to speak to Mr. Sullivan."

The woman seemed stunned, and her facial expression resembled one of a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, o-of course," she fumbled with her words. "You just need to take the elevator to the top floor."

"Thank you."

We walked over to the elevator and waited in silence. When we climbed into it and the metal doors closed behind us I turned to Andy.

"So have you ever met this guy before?" I asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. "Once when I was 17."

"Why?"

He looked down at me for a moment and then returned his gaze to in front of him. "It's a long story."

"We've tried to bring this case up before, mostly in secret so that we could clear Barclays history so he can enter the police academy, but when ever we try Mr Sullivan somehow finds out and steps in before we can act," Mike visibly grimaces. "Let's just say our confrontations with the man have been less than pleasant."

With a light ding the doors opened and we all stepped into a large hallway that lead to a double door entrance. On the side of the hallway there was desk where a young boy who could only be a little older than me sat. He was scribbling down some unknown script on several pieces of paper that were scattered across the desk. The boy seemed very rushed and disorganized, either he was a horrible employee or this Eric Sullivan guy was incredibly overbearing as an employer.

I watched with interest as Mike held up his police identification to the boy with a placid look. As soon as the boy saw it he scrambled to get a hold of the phone.

"Uh, M-mr. Sullivan," the boy stuttered. "There is a police officer who wishes to speak to you."

There was a reply that came after the boys statement. I couldn't here what was being said but I could tell from the secretary's visible distress that it was not a very good response.

"Oh his name is Mike Norris," he answered the question that the CEO probably asked. He listens to the response and then hangs up the phone. He nervously pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Um, Mr. Sullivan will see you."

Without any hint of hesitation, Mike and Andy stride into the office with a large amount confidence. I grasped Glen's hand tightly and pulled him into the office.

I walked up to Andy and stood beside him. Glen hid behind my leg, frightened out of his wits. I didn't blame him. As soon as I took in the appearance of the man that sat behind the large extravagant desk in the massive lavished office, I could tell off the bat that he was someone I would despise. There was something very threatening about him. He looked relatively young. No older then Andy himself. He had light blond hair and an irritating smirk. But his most striking feature was his eyes. As corny as that sounds. He had pale ice blue eyes, but they couldn't really be considered just blue. They were almost clear, like glass. They were as cold as ice and as sharp as glass. That was the best way to describe them. But there was more in his eyes then just odd coloring. There was a sort of calculating, intelligent look in them. Like he was analyzing everything in front of him and picking apart every bit of our DNA.

Right now that killer gaze is locked on Andy. I can tell by the snarl that Andy fails to hold back and the cruel smile on Eric Sullivan's face that they know each other in every horrible way possible. I can tell they absolutely despise each other. And I can tell Eric usually wins whatever war rises between the two of them.

"Mr. Barclay," Eric greets with mock sincerity. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

His voice is smooth and silvery, but it had an unmistakable venomous touch.

Andy tilted his head and narrowed his dark eyes on the man. "Mr. Sullivan," he began curtly. "We are here to discuss the-"

"Your killer doll case," Eric interrupted. "Yes I am aware. It seems you didn't learn your lesson the last time."

I can see Andy twitch ever so slightly. With a deep breath I can see him holding back an enormous amount of grudges and loathing. "We have some evidence we would like to discuss with you," Andy pulled out the files and presented them to the CEO. He flipped through them with with disinterest.

He turned over the last page, closing the file and pushing it back to Andy. He did that under 40 seconds. I doubt he even read the damn thing.

"No matter how many insane people you decide to disguise as witnesses," Eric hissed. "I'm not going to accept the psychopathic theory of a killer doll."

My temper got the best of me once again and I stepped forward and slammed my hands down on the desk. My furious eyes burn through his. "Did you even read the thing?" I snarled viciously. "You can't just assume that the evidence we have is invalid! Why would we bother showing up here if it was?"

I start to seethe with rage as the mans lips curl up into an irritating smirk.

"You must be Amy," he grins as I step back with a startled expression. "I've heard many things about you Miss Valentine. And yes I did read your so called evidence and find the information invalid."

Andy griped my shoulder and pushed me back. "What do you mean invalid?" he narrows his eyes. "The information is real and true, if you want we ca-"

"I'm not interested in that Barclay," Eric hissed. "And I would suggest you stop chasing these fantasies. Or would you prefer I send you back to the insane asylum where you belong."

I don't think much of the remark when he says it. But then my eyes quickly flicker towards Andy and I see that the comment holds much meaning and significance to him then I can comprehend. In a brief moment I see his form become rigid and his hands clench into fists. His eyes burn with more hatred than I ever thought possible for him.

"You can threaten me all you want Sullivan," Andy growled through gritted teeth. His self control was slipping by the second. "I am never going to stop until you recognize the evidence that I put in front of you and let me solve this case. You can throw me into another institution. You can drag me off to jail again. You can throw every single thing at me that your money and status can give you. I will not give up until my record is cleared and this entire damn case is solved and over."

I can practically see the cogs turning inside Eric Sullivan's mind as Andy finishes his speech. He analyzes ever word, sorts through every detail. He reminded me of a machine. Cold, emotionless and frighteningly logical. My father was a piece of plastic and he acted much more human then the man that's in front of me.

Slowly and gracefully Eric stands from his seat and lets out a low chuckle. "Look around you Barclay," he spits the name out like bitter poison. "You are a tragic man with an extensive criminal record and very low mental stability. Your allies consist of the selfish disgraced cop who's job and reputation are being held by a thread and the bastard daughter of the two serial killers who you claim to possess your dolls, and I would rather not explore through her very colorful upbringing. Now, do you really think you can actually defeat me. The powerful, successful, charismatic, very very well off owner of a multi million dollar company. Honestly _Andy_, I thought you couldn't possibly seem any more insane."

My temper boils up inside me. This egotistical bastard probably loved the sound of his own, especially when he was talking about himself or insulting someone else. I try to contain the angry words that push to exit my mouth. My expression displays my feelings perfectly, and I see no point in making our situation worse by letting my mouth run off with me. But my livid face frightens Glen and he lets out a terrified squeak.

My face immediately softens and my eyes travel down to the child. But my brother does not only capture my attention, but also that of the asshole who had not noticed him until now.

Eric's eyes had dragged over to Glen in disinterest. But when he sees the child behind me I can see his eyes light up with an emotion I do not recognize or like. His lips twitch up ever so slightly and he steps around to the front of the desk. "Hello," he greets Glen in such a friendly way that completely contradicts his attitude before. He kneels down to the floor at my feet so he is eye level with the child. "And who might you be?"

Glen is petrified and I see that he can scarcely breathe. I promised Andy I would keep my anger in check but Glen is involved and my maternal instincts take over. I grasped Glens hand and pulled him away from the cunning serpent. My face twists into a vicious snarl and my eyes burn with rage that is completely directed at this man.

"His name is Glen, and don't ever speak to him again." I don't shout or scream like I expected myself to. I say it simply in a low dangerous voice with a hidden sharpness that could slice through diamonds.

Eric looks up at me, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left side. He stood from the ground and from where he is now I can clearly see that he towers over me. I feel pretty silly glaring up at him with my head tilted almost all the way up. I can see the obvious amusement sparkling in his eyes. With that single look he was mocking me and it infuriated me. My face flushed a deep red color, which only encouraged him further.

"How old are you?" he asked cynically with a smirk. "I've never seen a 13 year old thats so short."

"I'm 15," I stated bluntly.

He rose his eyebrows slightly in surprise. "Really?" he asked like it was the most astounding thing in the world. "Interesting. You know when I first heard about the child of the infamous lakeshore strangler I expected someone a little more intimidating."

"Leave her alone _Eric_," Andy hissed stepping between me and the CEO. I sneered in disgust. Did Andy really think I couldn't handle this creep on my own? "This is about the case."

"Mr Barclay, your case is meaningless to me," he replied with an exasperated look. "I don't care if its never solved. All I care about are the negative effects it has on my company."

"I am very aware of that," Andy growled. "But if you don't except our evidence and let us or better yet help us with the case then you can be sure that your precious company will suffer a greater loss than ever before."

Eric narrowed his eyes on Andy. "Is that a threat?" he asks with a dangerous edge in his tone.

"Think of it as a friendly warning," Andy replied.

"Listen Barclay," Eric snapped. "If you think I am even the slightest bit daunted by any of the stunts you've been pulling for the past 5 years, then you are dead wrong. If its a war you want, then you picked the wrong fucking man to challenge. I will not rest until this case is buried, with you along with it."

"Ive been in this battle a lot longer then you have, Sullivan," Andy sneered with no intention backing down from this war. "And your money is going to do nothing for you in the end."

Eric let out a loud laugh. "Wanna bet?" he sneered with a cocky smirk. "Get out of my office before I have security throw you out."

To my surprise Andy doesn't put up a fight. He gives Eric one final nod of mock respect and leaves without a word. Mike follows looking at Eric with sharp distain before exiting the office. I take Glen by the hand and turn to follow but halt in my tracks when I hear the manipulating voice once again.

"I actually do hope to see you again Miss Valentine," Eric called from behind me. I turned to him with a quizzical look. He grinned at me and I felt an uncomfortable prickling in the back of my neck. "Though I do hate to see such a pretty and intelligent young girl in the company of someone like Andy Barclay."

I send him a cold glare before turning away and practically running out of the room with Glen in tow. I feel his ice blue eyes piercing through me the whole time.

**Hello dear readers. I thought this scene needed a bit more in it so I decided to add more to the chapter. Eric is one cocky bastard, and this is hardly the last time he creeps poor little Amy out. Hes like a smarter, colder guy version of Olivia. He is going to annoy Amy to death and probably will enjoy it.**

**Hope you like and please review! : )**


	11. Chapter 11

I ran up behind Andy and Mike, with little Glen struggling to keep up with me. I glanced behind me to the now closed doors of Eric Sullivan's office. I could still feel his eyes ripping through me with his piercing gaze, even though he was behind closed doors.

A shudder crawled up my spine, causing me to cringe at the uncomfortable feeling. I ignored it and held Glen so he was close to my side.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked curiously, looking at the light smirk that was twisting Andy's lips.

"You seemed to give up pretty easily to me," Mike stated.

"We are going to strike," Andy grinned. "Eric may be cocky and extremely arrogant, but he will start to feel the heat when his company is threatened."

"How are you planning on becoming a threat?" I asked with a slight bitter laugh. "He wasn't exactly wrong when he said we weren't the best group of witnesses."

"That he was not," Andy agreed. "But we are not the only ones."

* * *

><p>I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting to happen. I was meeting people who had experienced the horrors my father caused first hand.<p>

I hoped that Andy hadn't informed them of my background. That would probably make things complicated and dramatic.

I noticed Glen shaking under the intense gaze of the woman who stood across from us. She had arrived a short while ago. After talking with Andy for a little bit, she walked into the room, sending me and my brother a suspicious look. I gave her a sharp warning glare. At this rate, I wouldn't exactly be making a very good first impression. But after this, I was heading back to Los Angelus. So my reputation among these people hardly mattered.

Obviously Andy wasn't clear on the concept of secrets. I rolled my eyes and quickly glanced back at her. The woman had blond hair and brown eyes that burned with only a look. I'm not sure who she was. Considering the list of potential witnesses that we went over before, she could either be Kristen de Silva or Kyle Turner.

I wasn't sure if Andy and Mike would be able to gather half the people on that list. It wouldn't surprise me if some of them were unwilling to stand against someone as powerful as Eric Sullivan. My head snapped up when I heard the sound of the door accompanied by voices.

* * *

><p>Andy grinned at the boy and slapped a hand on his back. "Thanks Tyler," Andy gratefully began his praise. "You have no idea how-"<p>

"I told you it was no problem Barclay," Tyler interrupted. "I'm always willing to help a fellow officer from Kent."

"I didn't even graduate from Kent," Andy laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Ronald Tyler frowned deeply at his old friend. "Are you sure about this Barclay?" he asked hesitantly. "Last time we tried to fight...it didn't end well for you."

Andy sighed, exasperated by the years of doubts. "I am not going to give up," Andy growled. "I know it's true. You know it's true. And I am sick of feeling helpless when up against this bastard."

"Okay! Okay!" Tyler waved his hands in defense. "I get the struggle Barclay."

Andy calmed his flaring temper. When faced with thoughts of this stupid case and all those involved, he couldn't help but be emotional. The air became tense and all Andy could do was choke down his bitterness. Tyler ended the silence before things became to awkward.

"So who is here other than me?" He asked curiously. "You did say there were others."

"Kyle is here," Andy answered as he glanced in the direction of the sitting room. "So is Amy. Mike is making some inquiries but there is no guarantee anyone else will show up."

"Who's Amy?" Tyler questioned in confusion upon hearing the unfamiliar name.

"She is the newest member of the club," Andy answered with a shrug. "She has quite the complicated history."

"I think anyone involved would make them have a complicated history," Tyler retorted. "Wait a minute. I know who you're talking about."

"What?" Andy's head snapped up and his faced morphed into a startled expression.

"Yeah," Tyler looked up in thought. "It was on the news, Amy Valentine. I heard she was Chucky's kid. Is that true?"

"Yes," Andy answered as he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't talk to her about it. You might make her mad. She's got one hell of a temper."

"But wasn't Charles a doll. Is it even possible for him to have a kid?" Tyler asked, his eyes focussing on the door to the living room.

"He wasn't always a doll," Andy said bluntly. "She's not that bad, once you get use to her. It took a while for me."

"No doubt," Tyler agreed "Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone who has came so far is in the sitting room," Andy replied. "It's just my mother, Mike, Kyle and Amy."

"That's it?" Tyler asked with a hint of disappointment.

"Yeah," Andy sighed softly. He looked to the ground in despair. "That's it."

* * *

><p>I watched as Andy and another boy walked into the room. The boy was a bit younger than me, dark with black hair and brown eyes.<p>

I glanced around at the seven people in the room. Glen wouldn't be much help, Andy and his mother were previously questioned for their sanity, and my history was not very helpful to the situation.

"Is this it?" I whispered without thinking.

"Yes," Andy answered calmly. "But it doesn't matter, every little bit counts."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Yeah, we can do some real damage with two more people."

"Amy-" Andy began.

"What exactly are you planning to do Barclay?" I snapped. "This man is dead set on keeping this case buried and so far we have no advantage. How are you expecting to win against someone like him when there is only 7 of us, none of which have enough influence on the public."

"We can't just doubt any course of action we may take," Andy argued. "If you wanna win this, you need to have more faith."

"It's called having a realistic perspective. You should try getting one," I hissed. Andy narrowed his eyes on me, giving me a warning glare. But I wasn't going to back down. We couldn't take a big risk when we were so clearly in over our heads. I had too much to lose. Looking down at Glen, I knew why I was hesitant to fight a threatening person like Eric Sullivan with such insignificant numbers. We had no chance, and things were starting to look hopeless.

"I think it's more of a pessimistic perspective," a voice called from the open doorway.

All eyes turned to the young man who leaned against the door frame. Arms crossed, dark hair messed, and wearing a black leather jacket. He looked like a regular badass wanna be. I noticed the chocolate brown coloring of his eyes with a start. He seemed so familiar, I just couldn't place it. I focus on him fully, taking in his appearance bit by bit until the memory finally comes.

With shock and a feeling of nostalgia, I whisper his name.

"Jesse?"

**Ta da! Nothing spectacular. But you will be pleased with the next few chapters I guarantee.**

**Please review! : )**


	12. Chapter 12

Of all the people I expected to show up here, Jesse was not one of them. He was the kind of person who wanted to leave the past alone and move as far away from rough times as soon as he escaped. If he had an encounter with a killer doll, I would assume he would take extra precautions in order to avoid the thing.

There for it was extremely shocking to see the old friend I hadn't seen since I was 10. All I could do was stand there and gawk at him.

"Wow Amy," he laughed as he came closer to me. "You're all grown up. I mean your height hasn't improved much, but its still strange to see you after all these years."

The height comment deflated my shock. This was just getting ridiculous.

"What are you doing here Jesse?" I asked with my eyes narrowed. "I didn't think you would show up to this thing."

"Well, since your reputation is on the line, I thought I should help you out," Jesse shrugged with a wry grin.

"Thanks for the thought," I said. "But I still don't think one more person on our side is going to tip the scales."

"Two more people," another voice came from the doorway. I turned and saw a familiar blonde standing before me. "And we actually have an idea to tip those scales."

"You remember Jade," Jesse smiled at his girlfriend from 6 years ago. "Right, Amy."

I nodded to her before glancing back at Andy for a moment. "So, are you two still married?" I asked with a pleasant smile.

"Umm, yeah," Jade answered with a slight smile. "For 6 years now."

I turned back to Andy and smirked. He rolled his eyes when I stuck my tongue out at him. "Now is not the time for that," he sneered. "You said you had a plan. What did you have in mind?"

Jade and Jesse focussed on Andy and Jade smiled. "I say we strike back at Mr Sullivan," she suggested with a grin. "And god knows that the best way to do that would be to strike at his company."

Mike lifted his head curiously from his place on the couch. "How are you going to do that?"

"Well," Jesse started to explain taking Jades hand. "Jade is a journalist for this magazine that is popular teenagers. And since Play Pals mostly targets kids and teenagers for their products, we figured we could write something on the case that might jeopardize the company."

"Do you think that will work?" I asked. Not quite ready to get my hopes up yet. Or at all.

"It might end up scaring kids away from Play Pals and it might not," Jade stated simply. "The point is that it will plant doubt in their little heads and that will catch Mr Sullivan's attention. He knows that kids are impressionable and easily scared. We just need to show him that we can hurt him as much as he can hurt us."

"But what if he comes after you when you write it," Karen asked, concerned.

Jade crossed her arms and smirked. "It's going to be written as an anonymous article," she answered. "Eric Sullivan won't have any idea who wrote it."

Xxx

"Andy fucking Barclay!"

Jonathan squeaked in surprise when his boss launched yet another object at the wall. This time he picked a picture frame. The photo of Eric and his sister now had some nasty scratches on the surface.

Eric Sullivan paced the floor of his office like a caged tiger. A copy of a silly teen magazine, sitting atop his desk. It was mocking him, with that fucking article about the imaginary killer doll that was birthed by the sick fantasies of a disturbed child. The article was anonymous and it slandered his name and the name of his company. He knew Barclay was the one responsible. He threatened him only 3 days ago, threatened his company.

"Who else would pull a stunt like this," he yelled at his young assistant. "That bastard is so fucking determined to make my life hell. He's like a cancer, a virus, that just spreads it's poison and fucks up everything I have worked for."

"This type of story won't even make a dent in the companies stock," Jonathan tried calming his furious boss. "This whole thing will blow over in no time, just like before. We don't even sell the good guys anymore."

"This isn't about stocks," Eric roared. "If you read between the lines, this article is attacking me. It's a direct challenge to me and my credibility. A failure like Andy Barclay thinks he can challenge someone like me." Eric's attitude went from pure outrage to amused. Soft chuckles erupted from his lips. "Andy Barclay actually thinks he can..." Another fit of giggles from the usually frighteningly stoic man, made Jonathan step back in slight surprise. The hysteric laughter that echoed throughout the building slowly decreased. Eric Sullivan's face slowly hardened as he looked at the article.

Eric had been considerate, he had been patient. But Barclay continued try and sabotage him. Eric had the decency to give the misguided kid some professional help. But Barclay acted like he was wronged. The man didn't realize how damaged he was.

This fantasy had to end. And the only way to do that was to prove to Barclay that these dolls were harmless.

The last murder case that involved this doll took place in Los Angelus. Eric turned and looked down at Jonathan's small form. "I want you to get the evidence from the string of murders in Los Angelus that happened this summer involving the Good Guy doll," he ordered the young man. His menacing tone was back and his cold eyes cut right through the assistant. "I don't care what you have to do to get it. I want it here, in my office, within the next week. Is that clear?"

Jonathan gulped down the fear that clogged his throat. "Crystal," he replied with a tremor in his voice.

Eric gave him a smile. This was going to end. "Good." He would rather turn to dust than cave to the whim of Andy Barclay.

Xxxx

Nothing happened. The article was released and people were reading it. Even talking about it since one of the murders happened this summer in LA. But Eric Sullivan wasn't doing anything. He wasn't addressing the public. He wasn't threatening us, which was weird because I honestly thought he would do that first. I was expecting some kind of security or private police force to come bursting through Mike's door and arrest is all. But there was nothing. Not even a peep. Maybe I overestimated him. I mean, he seems like the type who wouldn't cave to anything and who would crush anyone who looked at him cross-eyed. Maybe he didn't think it would matter in the long run, which it probably wouldn't. He didn't seem very threatened by us. But something felt off. He should at least make some response, in order to have the last word. He seems like the type who likes to have the last word. I'm probably thinking about this to much.

I turned to Andy, who was just walking into the house carrying a couple bags of groceries. Most of the others were out at work, but Andy worked nights. A bouncer at a popular club down town. It made sense. Given his tall and muscular frame. But most people looked tall and muscular compared to me. But I had noticed that Andy was considerably taller and more muscular than most. And a bit cuter.

I freeze when that thought creeps into my brain. Where the hell did that come from? I blushed furiously as I quickly turned my head away from him. No. Not happening. 22 year old, a guy your family has personally threatened. A friend and partner. Yep, that's all he was. That's it, that's all. Shows over folks.

"Hey Amy," Andy greeted as sat down beside me.

"Nothing!" I yelled.

He gave me a weird look and Glen turned toward me from his spot on the floor, where he was watching a cartoon. His head tilted in that adorable way it would whenever he was confused.

I gave him a weak smile and turned to Andy, who was still looking at me like I grew a three new heads. "Hey," I replied calmly. Thank you for the acting classes, mom. But I will still probably die from mortification.

"You have something on your mind," he said with a small smile as he became more relaxed.

I am not going to blush. Nope. Not happening. Man, he has really nice shoulders. He would make a great cop. Even with that whole 'too charming to be real' vibe. God dammit, I hate being a fifteen year old girl. Kenzie would start to squeal if she found out I was blushing over an older guy. Even though he wasn't that much older. Lots of girls my age date college guys. Not that I would. Not that he would. Would he? Would he ever consider it? Would he say yes if I asked? Which I wouldn't. Ever. Never Ever. I really need to stop thinking.

"Do you think it's weird that Sullivan hasn't done anything yet?" I asked, trying to focus on something other than the guy in front of me. Which would be hard because he is right in front of me.

"A little weird," he shrugged casually, drawing my eyes to his shoulders. Bad Amy. "A lot weird, actually. I'm a little worried that he died or something. He is never this late to respond."

"It's been a week," I stated as I looked to my hands. "Maybe he's planning something."

We pondered for a bit, ricocheting theories off each other. Most of them ended with him being dead or a robot.

The ring of Andy's cell phone distracted us. He took it out of his pocket and answered.

"Hello?" Andy said. "Yes."

He continued to speak, his brow furrowing slightly. Finally, he hung up. I looked at him expectantly.

"Eric Sullivan wishes to see me."

My eyes widened at that statement. Well there was the delayed response.

"Alright," I nodded. "Let's go. Grab your coat Glen and wear your hat and mitts. I don't want you getting frost bite."

"Who said you two were coming?" Andy protested.

"I did," I answered as I bundled my little brother up and put on my own coat. "I can't let you go in there by yourself. What if he tries to kill you?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that that theory is correct."

"Well, whatever," I huffed stubbornly. "I don't want you to go in there alone. Don't worry, I'll be cool. Now let's go see what he has to say."

I grabbed Glen's little hand and walked out the door. Andy followed me with a frustrated growl. "Like you could be calm for more than a second."

Xxx

The same guy who was sitting at the desk that was sitting beside the door to Mr. Sullivan's office before, was still there.

Andy walked straight past him with long strides and burst through the doors. I stumbled behind him, tugging Glen in with me.

"What do you want?" Andy demanded as he walked up to the desk.

Eric smiled as we walked in, which was unsettling. "Barclay, I'm glad you could show up," he motioned towards the plush couch that sat on the side of the office. "Please have a seat."

We all looked over at the couch and we al froze when we saw what sat on it.

Cold blue eyes and bright green eyes stared back at us. Dead and still as stone.

"But you may want to mind my other guests," Eric said with a cocky smile.

**This was a really long break. And god do I feel like a bitch for not updating sooner. I hope you like this chapter. I will try to make my a absence up to you.**


	13. Chapter 13

All Andy's face showed was pure horror for a moment before it melted into rage.

"What kind of game are you playing, Sullivan?" he growled at the CEO.

Eric shrugged with carefree smirk. "No game," he answered. "I just wanted you to face your fears. I'm only doing this because I'm worried about you. Honestly, you need help."

"I don't need your help," Andy hissed. "I don't want your help. And why would you think bringing those things here would help me?"

Eric lifted something from his desk, examining it with a critical eye. "Their dolls, Barclay," he answered without looking at either of us. "You need to grow up and realize that. It's the only way you can move on."  
>Andy cast a distrustful look towards the dolls, probably making sure they were still in the same place.<p>

"How did you get them?" he wondered aloud.

Eric offered a fake friendly smile. "I just pulled some strings," he answered. Still holding the thing he had picked up from his desk. I could see a chain attached to the object, so I'm pretty sure it was some kind of necklace. It looked awfully familiar. I heard Glen gasp from where he stood beside me. I looked down and saw that his eyes were fixed on the amulet thing, his hands twitching as if he wanted to race over to Eric and snatch it out of his hands.

"What's that?" I asked suspiciously, nodding towards the amulet that he was holding.  
>Eric smiled and held up the amulet by its chain and let it dangle in the air. The red stone that was embedded in the amulet gleamed in the light. It seemed really familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen that thing before. Damn frustrating stuff.<p>

"This was collected from the scene of the crime that you were present for, Miss Valentine," the CEO remarked, smirking in my direction. "Perhaps you could explain what it is."

I could only stare at the necklace with a stunned expression, trying to think about any necklaces or amulets that may have been at the hospital when Chucky attacked. My mind raced and I pulled back the memories from that horrible day. I flinched when finally remembered where I had seen the amulet before. It was that necklace my father was holding when he went to possess Jennifer and Stan. The same necklace my mother held when she died the second time. Or was it the third time.

"I think it's a voodoo talisman," I answered slowly.

"Voodoo?" He repeated quietly, but I could feel the contempt beneath the softness of his voice. "You don't say?"

He turned the amulet between his fingers and stopped when he looked at the back. He noticed some sort of script carved into the stone.

"And I suppose this is some sort of Voodoo spell," he chuckled as he read over the words. "Ade due damba-"

"Don't read that!" Glen yelled desperately. He ran around the desk and tried to grab the amulet out of Eric's hands, but he stood so that it was just out of the child's grasp. Glen continued jumping up and down, trying to reach the chain.

I ran over to him and held him still, his panicked gaze remained on the necklace grasped firmly in Eric Sullivan's hand.

"Glen, what's wrong?" I asked him in confusion.

"The back of the necklace," he panted. "You can't read it. They'll come back. They'll both come back to life."  
>My eyes widened and I looked up a the necklace. Andy stared at the child in terror and looked back to Sullivan. Eric looked as if he was going to explode with laughter. The mirth pushed through his lips and he erupted into hysterical giggles. The maniacal laughter was chilling and could rival the killer doll himself. The laughter died down after a moment and he tried to regain his breathing.<p>

If Glen was right, and reading that necklace would bring them back to life, than we were all screwed. I had no doubt that Eric was crazy enough to read it.

I took my brother's hand and started pulling him towards the doorway. I looked at Andy, who started backing away from the dolls and towards me. He looked at Eric pleadingly.

"Look Eric," he whispered. "You win. You don't need to keep hounding me or threatening me. I don't want to destroy your company. Please, just put the necklace down."

"You actually believe the kid, Andy," he chuckled darkly. "You're a grown man. You can't believe in these ghost stories anymore."

"Please," Andy whispered. His dark eyes searching the cold blue for any trace of mercy.

"This ends today," Eric stated calmly. "Ade due damballa, awake."

The words seemed to echo within the room. And there was a deathly silence that followed. Eric stared at us with an eerie calm. Andy, Glen and I looked at the dolls in fear, expecting them to stand and attack at any second.

Everything remained still for a moment that seemed to last hours. No one dared to speak or breathe. No one dared to move.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind, seemingly coming from nowhere. The lights flickered violently and electricity swerved. I could feel a chill pass through me. Choking me. Clogging the room and causing a darkness.

I looked as a new color flooded through the eyes of the dolls. Giving them new life. After a moment, both of them blinked.

Eric's eyes looked as if they would pop out of their sockets. The red head doll blinked twice and his head spun as he glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings. My mother did the same. Both of them stopped when they saw me.

"Amy?" my mom asked in confusion. She looked towards Chucky. "What's going on?"

Andy reached for the door knob.

"Beats me," Chucky rasped. The voice cause Andy to shiver violently. He glanced at the child who tried to hide behind my leg. "There's my boy. I haven't seen you since you chopped me into pieces. How've my two kids been?"

There was a sinister edge in his voice as he stood on the couch and smiled wickedly.  
>I held Glen's hand tightly.<p>

"You look a bit more fleshy than you were before," he observed. "And who have you two been hanging around?"

His eyes glazed over the frozen Eric with disinterest, but his smile widened when he caught sight of Andy's wide frightened eyes.

"No fucking way," he sneered, causing Andy to flinch. "Andy fucking Barclay. It's been a long time sport."  
>Andy stepped back while pushing me back towards the now open door. It was only opened slightly, but we could still shove through in time.<p>

"Run," he whispered to me.

My grip on Glen tightened. Without a moment of hesitation, I whipped around and sprinted out the door and to the elevator. Andy was running right behind me. The assistant stood from his chair and watched us run down the hall with an alarmed look.

"What's going on?" he yelled. I turned to tell him to run but froze when I heard the boy's scream of pain.

There was a letter opener lodged in his eye socked. Blood oozed from his eye and gushed around his face as he wreathed in pain. He toppled to the ground, still groaning, and I saw my mother standing beside him. Andy gripped my arm and started pulling me towards the elevator.

"Sorry you had to see that, sweetheart," she said sweetly to me and Glen. "Now come on you two, there's no need to run away. Your father and I aren't going to hurt you two or your friend."

"Speak for yourself," Chucky's voice sounded from behind me.  
>Before Andy or I could turn around, there was a loud thump. Andy fell to his knees, screaming in agony and holding his injured legs. I gasped and pulled Glen back. Chucky was standing beside Andy with a golf club.<p>

"This little bitch has been asking for this for years," he growled lifting the club high above his head and smashing it into the back of Andy's head. He was knocked over by the impact and he fell on his side with a heavy thud.

I backed away as Chucky smirked at the limp body. When I saw the rise and fall of Andy's chest and heard him groan in pain, I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God, he wasn't dead.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this moment, sport. Do you have any idea what I'm gonna do to you, Andy?" he asked sinisterly. "I'm gonna cut off your legs. Flay pieces of your skin. I'm gonna take both your eyes and rip out your tongue. And I think I'll tear off your dick for the fun of it. And then flay your fucking balls. And when I'm done I'm gonna set you on fire, so you know what it's like to be burned alive."  
>Andy glared at him with burning hazel eyes. His face didn't betray any fear at the prospect of being tortured to death.<p>

"But before I do all that, I'm going to break every single fucking bone in your body," he snarled before lifting the club again, ready to swing. Before the golf club came down, there was a loud gun shot that rang through the air. The bullet pierced his shoulder and he fell to the floor. I looked up to see Eric with a gun in his hand. I scrambled over to Andy and helped him up from the ground. With my arm supporting his back we ran as fast as we could towards the elevator. Glen had gotten the elevator doors open and before Chuck or my mother could stand to attack us, Eric, Andy, Glen and I stumbled through the doorway and collapsed on the floor. Chucky got up with a furious scream, his deadly glare focused on Andy. He ran to the door, ready to beat us all to death. He cursed and shouted at us when the doors slid shut.  
>Xxx<p>

"Andy, Andy, Andy, Barclay," Chucky muttered bitterly as he threw the club to the ground. That stupid fucking kid was still a bitch to deal with. "It figures he would get away again. Little fucker."

He turned back to go confront Tiff. Just because things were getting pretty hectic didn't mean he forgot what happened during the summer before. The bitch tried to leave him and take his kids away. He pretty much made her pay for that, but he needed to make sure she learned her goddamned lesson.

Tiffany was standing on Jonathan's desk still. Jonathan was still moaning and groaning from the pain he had been dealt. The letter opener was still embedded in his eye.

"So are you still going to try to kill me and our children?" She asked haughtily.

"I never tried to kill the kids," Chucky protested. "Glen was the one who chopped me up and Amy hit me with a fucking lamp. Those two brats need a lesson in discipline."

"You stuck an ax in my head. Don't think I'm not still pissed about that," she sneered. "I had the chance to be a star and you ripped that away from me. Because you wanted to stay a piece of plastic for the rest of your miserable life."

"Look Tiff," he sighed in exasperation. "I just wasn't myself that day. I mean you were giving up killing and we were doing all this stuff with voodoo pregnancies and dealing with a teenaged daughter and six year old son. It was a mess. Anyone would lose there mind when they were under the same circumstances."

"And you expect me to just spend the rest of my life as a doll, even though you were the asshole that did this to me in the first place," Tiffany snarled sarcastically.

"We're not going to stay as dolls," he muttered. "I've spent to long trapped in this body trying to fight my way out. But we're not going to live your Hollywood fantasy."

"Then what's your plan smart ass," she sneered.

Chucky sighed and looked towards a magazine that had been tossed on the floor in the panic. He picked it up the thing, looking at the date. It had only been a few months since the last time he came back. He flipped through the pages until he stopped at a picture. The picture was of the CEO of Sullivan industries, a billion dollar company. The same asshole who shot him. The fucking bastard.

But, he had a good name, not too shabby looking, and he had a fucking fortune to boot. Living in Hollywood as a rap star seemed glamorous, but Chicago was the place he belonged. And being filthy rich sweetened the deal. Eric Sullivan was the perfect choice.

"Eric Sullivan," he mumbled. "Look him up."

Tiffany grumbled to herself before typing in the name and quickly found his name on Wikipedia.

"He's the owner of the company that made all those Good Guy dolls. He changed the name and raised the stock value of his company by like 50%,"  
>she stated in surprise as she skimmed the words on the page. "Are you really expecting to pull off being a CEO?"<p>

"I bet I would make a better CEO than you would an actress," he argued.

"Then what about my body?" Tiffany pouted.

"Check if he has a wife or a girlfriend or something," he replied with a shrug.

She scrolled down to see his personal life. She had to get through a bunch of boring stuff about his childhood before she finally found that the man was engaged. She clicked on the highlighted name of the woman and gasped when her page was loaded. An actress. An actress from a popular T.V. show called the Hills. She had also been in a few horror movies and some sitcoms. She could still be a star. Not Jennifer Tilly, but she would still be famous, plus this girl was gorgeous and only nineteen years old.

Jackie Styles. What a perfect name. What a perfect choice.

She squealed in excitement. "Oh Chucky, this girl is perfect," she giggled at the thought of being a beautiful actress. Married to a rich owner of a billion dollar company no less. It was a dream come true. "Eric Sullivan's fiancé. They started living together a year ago. She's a TV actress and she's stunning."

"Well, good for you," Chucky snarled, rolling his eyes, "You get to be a star. But what are we going to do about the kids?"

"We just need to talk to them," she insisted. "Tell them that we're not killing anyone. And we can be one happy family."

"Oh no!" Chucky yelled. "We aren't going to give up killing. I don't care what you say. We both like killing.

It's who we are."

"But our children," Tiffany argued before being cut off by by her husband.

"Our children are kids," Chucky countered. "They don't know what they want. We need to be the responsible parents and tell our kids what's best for them."

Tiffany frowned. She had forced that life on Amy. Taught her how to be a killer. Showed her how to kill. She never asked Amy if she was okay with it or not. She never paid any mind when her baby girl cried at the sight of a dead body. Amy grew out of it once she was seven.

But Glen vocally showed his discomfort and opposition for murder. She didn't know if he could grow out of that. But if he didn't, there would always be a gap between them, because Chucky was right. She was a killer. She loved killing. The feeling of power and the adrenaline was incredible. Nothing could ever match it. Nothing could ever turn her on more. It was just who she was.

Her children could get used to it. They could grow out of this phase and they could learn to enjoy the sheer ecstasy of killing when they grew up, like she did. It was in their blood.

"We need to find them," she answered. Not making a concrete decision to force her kids to be killers but certainly not rejecting the idea either. "That man, Andy Barclay took our children away."

"I know," Chucky sneered. Even the thought of his kids being around that bastard made his blood boil.

"First, we should find out where that jerk who shot me lives. It's time for us to go house hunting."

Tiffany's lips curved into a malicious smile and her husband gave her a manic grin in return. Her green eyes glinted as she turned her gaze to the young man who was looking up at them with his good eye. The pure terror in his face made her smile widen.

"I know just the person to help us out," she stated sweetly as she looked down at the assistant in the floor. He was shaking uncontrollably. "So sweet face, do you wanna play."

Chucky couldn't help but let out an uncontrollable laugh. His Tiff was back.

**So that took a really long time and I am so sorry. I've been neglecting this story for a while now and I'm sorry to everyone who was waiting forever. I've been getting back into horror though and I started to love this story again. I finally got to Chucky again and I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm excited to write more.**  
><strong>Please review :)<strong>


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